


Blame the heat

by Pers



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, gratuitous shirtlessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 01:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pers/pseuds/Pers
Summary: It had to be the heat that made Chandler act so out of character.





	Blame the heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slightlytookish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlytookish/gifts).



> This is for slightlytookish, who asked for a winter scene. I'm afraid the fic didn't quite turn out like that...

It was July, and all of London was suffering from a sweltering heatwave. All of London? Not quite. A small team of detectives in Whitechapel police station had to deal with a different problem altogether. The air conditioning unit was faulty, turning their incident room into a cooling chamber. 

Not that Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler minded much. He'd never been too fond of summer, not even when he'd been a child. The heat had a tendency to make everyone miserable, not to mention smelly, and Chandler himself didn't like the feeling of his shirt sticking to his back.

So all things considered, he much preferred the cold. Even if it meant he had to wear a sweater on top of his shirt and waistcoat to keep warm, and gloves so that his fingers wouldn't start to get numb from the cold.

The rest of the team had adapted to the cold in a similar fashion. Kent was wearing a sweater and bobble hat that looked like they had been hand-knitted. Chandler suspected they had been a gift from Kent's mother, because Kent usually had better taste in colours.

Riley had a plaid draped around her shoulders whenever she was sitting at her desk, which wasn't very often. Most of the time she was running errands that kept her out of the freezing incident room and in the warmer regions of Whitechapel police station. 

Miles didn't seem fazed by the cold at all, he'd simply put on a warm sweater with minimal grumbling. Chandler suspected he wasn't a fan of the heat either. Whenever Ed visited them in the incident room, he was wearing his thickest winter coat, a red scarf, as well as ear muffs.

The only one who hadn't adjusted his dress style to the cold was, of course, Mansell. Which wasn't to say he hadn't adjusted his usual dress style at all. Every day, Mansell came in wearing a different short-sleeved shirt with patterns that screamed _Summer!_ and _Bad Fashion Sense!_ so loud it gave Chandler a headache. 

One time, Mansell had even worn a pair of shorts and sandals. Chandler had had to go into his office to apply a good measure of tiger balm, leaving Miles to tell Mansell off for not sticking to the dress code.

Mansell wore proper shoes again after that, but still kept wearing those awful shirts. He was already counting down the days until his holiday in Spain, and started peppering his conversations with Spanish words. Every time he did that, Kent flinched and glared at his colleague - which said colleague simply ignored.

Kent seemed to get quieter with each day, and Chandler couldn't fathom why he looked so miserable. It couldn't be jealousy, because Chandler knew for a fact that Kent had some time off around the same time that Mansell did.

Chandler thought about asking Miles to deal with Kent, like he'd done with Mansell. But he'd always found it easier talking to Kent than the rest of the team, with the exception of Miles. He decided to talk to Kent himself, and when the next opportunity arose, Chandler teamed up with Kent.

Together they left the station to interview a witness. As soon as Chandler stepped outside the doors, he was hit by a wall of scorching heat, making him stumble backwards with a gasp. Spending all day inside the cold incident room, he had completely forgotten that it was summer. It felt like a hundred degrees outside, and Chandler only had one thought: get rid of the layers of clothes he was wearing. 

That was soon accomplished. He took off his jacket and pulled the sweater over his head. His waistcoat and shirt followed soon afterwards, and it was only when someone wolf-whistled that Chandler realized what he'd done. 

Startled, he looked around. There was a group of constables standing nearby, staring at him unabashedly and grinning. Kent was also staring at him, obviously suffering from the heat as well, judging from the flush that was creeping up his neck. At least Kent had been wise enough to take off his sweater and bobble hat before leaving the station.

Kent caught himself, turning towards the constables and yelling at them to get back to work. He sounded a bit like Miles when he did that, and Chandler couldn't help being impressed. Kent would make a good sergeant one day.

"Here, sir," Kent now said, handing Chandler his shirt. "I think you'd better put this back on before they return with their friends."

Chandler gave an embarrassed laugh. "I'm sorry, Kent. I went a bit overboard, must have been the heat..." 

He quickly put his shirt back on, then his waistcoat and jacket as Kent handed them to him. He cleared his throat. 

"Thank you, Kent. Shall we be on our way?"

They took Chandler's car, which had better air conditioning, and soon Chandler didn't feel as if he was melting anymore. He remembered his initial plan to talk to Kent, and cleared his throat again.

"May I ask you a question, Kent?"

Kent gave him a surprised look. "Of course you may, sir."

"I couldn't help noticing that you're in a... less than exuberant mood whenever Mansell mentions his holiday in Spain. Don't you have a holiday coming up as well?"

Kent was quiet for a moment, and Chandler began to think that he'd gone too far. He really shouldn't be prying into the private life of his DC like that, should he?

"That's the problem, sir. I'm going on a holiday together with Mansell."

Chandler almost missed the traffic lights turning red and only just managed to stop his car in time.

"You're going on a holiday with Mansell?" he asked, certain that he'd somehow misheard Kent. 

"Well, Mansell and my sister Erica. You remember her, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. So, uhm. A family getaway then?"

Kent snorted. "I wish. Erica didn't tell me Mansell would come along as well when she asked me to go on holiday with her. By the time I found out, I'd already paid for everything and couldn't get a refund."

"Oh, that's too bad. But I'm sure you'll have a good time all the same," Chandler tried to cheer him up.

"Yeah," Kent replied darkly. "Because feeling like the fifth wheel all the time is so much fun. I'd just, you know, been looking forward to spending some time with Erica. We often used to go on holiday together when we were younger, but now we don't see each other that often anymore. And when we do, Mansell is usually there." He sighed. "I'm sorry, sir. You don't want to hear all of this."

"I wouldn't have asked if I hadn't wanted to know," Chandler reassured him, although he really had been unprepared for the misery that had come pouring out of Kent.

"Still, I'm afraid you're going to have to accept the fact that Mansell is part of your sister's life now. Try telling her how you feel, I doubt she can read your mind, whatever they say about twins having psychic abilities."

Kent sighed. "I know, sir. Thank you."

"Enjoy your holiday, and if it gets too bad, you can call me and I'll put together a rescue mission."

This made Kent laugh at last. "I can't imagine you anywhere near Benidorm," he said. "But thank you, sir. I appreciate the offer."

They continued their drive in companionable silence. Chandler was surprised at how easy he'd found it to talk to Kent. The DC had always hero-worshipped Chandler a little too much, but lately something had shifted. Chandler wasn't sure which one of them had changed, perhaps both of them had.

The drive turned out to be the most enjoyable part of the day. They were soon stuck in the stuffy living-room of their witness, drinking lukewarm lemonade, and not getting anywhere. The heat made Chandler wish he could take his shirt off again, but he resisted that urge.

Without having achieved anything, they returned to the incident room, and Chandler was once again hit by the blast of arctic air coming from the air conditioning. He quickly fled to the bathroom to change out of his sweat-soaked shirt into a fresh one, glad that no one was going to wolf-whistle in here. 

The change in temperature confused Chandler so much that he didn't even think twice about accepting an invitation from Miles to join his family for a barbecue. 

As he sat in Miles' garden that evening, with the legs of his trousers rolled up and his bare feet stuck in a paddling pool (Miles had assured him the water had been changed just before his arrival), Chandler couldn't help but marvel at his own behaviour. It had to be the heat that made him act so out of character, he had no other explanation for it. But as it was, he spent a pleasant evening at Miles' house, talking to Miles and Judy, and watching the kids run through the lawn sprinklers.

Relaxed, he arrived at work the next day to find that the air conditioning had stopped working altogether. No doubt the incident room would soon turn into a furnace, but Chandler found he didn't care. At least not too much. Perhaps he could send Kent out on an errand to get a basin and cold water for Chandler to cool his feet in?

As if on cue, Kent arrived, looking happier than he had in weeks. Chandler gave him a questioning look, which made Kent grin even more. 

"Sir, have you heard?" he asked, unable to hide his glee. "Mansell caught a cold. He won't be able to go on holiday after all!"


End file.
